


Forget-me-not

by Gottaread2



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-07-28 13:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gottaread2/pseuds/Gottaread2
Summary: An AU where Oswald does not remember Ed shooting him at the dock. Without memories of his criminal past, he and Ivy open a flower shop together and are happy. But what will happen when Oswald and Edward cross paths once more and the Riddler realizes he failed to kill the Penguin?





	1. Oswald: Identity

Light shimmered above, warped by the waves and obscuring his last glimpse of him. Edward Nygma. Whatever he felt for him, it did not matter now. Edward had already decided he was better off without Oswald. That he had to pay for his actions. Actions born from love.

No. Oswald knew better now. It had been selfishness that prompted him to kill the librarian. He just wanted Edward to notice. To see him, really see him, the way he saw Ed. _Life only gives you one true love_ , his mother had told him, and Oswald believed Edward was his with all his heart. Why couldn't Ed see that? See that he needed Oswald just as much as he needed Ed. Two kindred spirits destined to meet, destined to rule. They could have had everything together. They did. Until the librarian stole everything that should have been his from him. Oswald knew Edward was his. It was selfishness. Even now.

Oswald wished he could have been better. That his love for Edward had been selfless. Maybe things could have been different. These thoughts followed Oswald into the dark. He was quickly sinking, his blood clouding the murky water around him and swallowing him in its cold embrace. He should just give in to that embrace. Let the water claim him. Take away these painful thoughts and all the hurt. 

His chest burned. It turned out heartache was a physical pain to rival the bullet in his gut. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen, the loss of blood, as Oswald's heart continued to frantically thump. He wished it would stop. Accept fate and welcome death. He had wanted to. Edward wanted him to. That was why he pulled the trigger. That was why he pushed Oswald over the edge of the dock. That was why he looked at him that way. That look…

It confused Oswald. Edward's expression had contradicted both his actions and words. Edward had said he wanted to make Oswald suffer, so why did it look like Ed was suffering too. Pain had been etched in Edward's expression even as he watched Oswald’s body sink in the water. Did he really want him dead?

Oswald might as well be dead. He had nothing left. Edward had made sure of that. He found himself knocked down once more, sunken to the lowest point he had ever been, like his body in the water. But even as his will was broken and he felt ready to give in, his heart kept beating and something wrapped around his body pulling him from the water. No. He just wanted it to end. Oswald let go, left his life behind, seeking the relief of the abyss. He lost consciousness before reaching the surface. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Consciousness came back to him slowly, like grains of sand running through an hourglass, scattered pieces at a time. And the world seemed muddled, like it was experienced through a filter. Maybe this should have been concerning, but it wasn't. It was sort of nice actually. It softened the sharp edges of this cruel existence and took away his pain. Or maybe it was the drugs?

The man blinked his eyes open and could smell the pungent, spicy scent of some strange planty paste spread over his wound. He was wounded? How did that happen? The man did not puzzle over it too long, however. There were more important things for him to figure out.

"Who am I?" the man murmured aloud.

"Bout time you woke up." a feminine voice teased, "You've been, like, asleep for days."

A young woman had just walked into the room to stand at his bedside. The man looked her over. Red hair, freckles, couldn't be older than 20 years of age. Maybe younger? And he had no idea who she was.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He questioned, looking around the rest of the room, which aside from the bed he was lying in, was covered in a variety of plants.

"Oh! Right, introductions. My name's Ivy. Ivy Pepper." the young woman chirped eagerly.

The name didn't ring any bells. But he wasn't even sure who he was, so maybe this wasn't surprising.

"And who am I?" he asked next.

"You don't remember?" a worried frown crossed the girl's face.

The man shook his head. His mind was as blank as the white sheets covering him. He had no idea who he was, how he got here, or what happened to him before he got here (wherever here was).

"Hmm. Well, guess you can't mentor me then." Ivy sighed, "You _were_ the Penguin. Then you were the mayor. And now I suppose you're just Oswald Cobblepot."

"My name is Oswald?" Oswald asked still slightly confused.

"That's right, Pengy." Ivy patted his shoulder reassuringly, "Do you remember anything from your past?"

Oswald thought for a moment, trying desperately to recall something. Anything. His eyes scanned the room, before settling on a pot of delicate white flowers sitting in the far corner. Something stirred in his mind. Something warm, soft, comforting. Arms wrapped around him, gently stroking his back. Clucking her tongue and fussing over her little boy. Soft smiles filled with pride. All the love he could ever need... all lost too soon. Memories now too painful to linger in. The feeling felt both hollow and so full that he might burst with it, all at the same time. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

"My mother was Gertrud Kappelput. She... she liked Lilies." Oswald answered with a croak.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the months that followed his rescue, Oswald's physical wounds healed, although the scar on his belly would always remain. His memory, however, saw little improvement. Bits and pieces would come back to him as time passed, but his past remained shrouded in ambiguity.

Ivy was able to fill in some of the blanks, but he discovered through their conversations that he and Ivy had not even been acquaintances in his previous life. She was able to tell him a little about his criminal past, but only information that was public knowledge. Ivy told him that all the past charges had been dropped by reason of insanity and that he had already been "cured" since then. However, Ivy continued on to describe how his criminal activities had not ceased after his release from Arkham. Oswald was concerned when he learned of this. But with a giggle, Ivy assured Oswald that although everyone knew he must be guilty of something, the GCPD had yet to get any accusations to stick. She also informed him of the time he'd spent as mayor of Gotham, up to the point of his debacle of an interview broadcast for the entire city to see. It was something he was glad he couldn't remember. That was the last Ivy had seen of him, until she had found and rescued him. It didn't sound like a worthwhile life. Not the sort of life his mother would have been proud of. And apparently, it had resulted in his being shot and dumped in the river. Everyone believed Oswald Cobblepot was dead. He decided to turn over a new leaf.

"What if we give up this criminal business?" Oswald mused, turning to see Ivy's reaction, "What if we... well, what if we opened a flower shop instead? You like flowers."

Ivy laughed. Her smile was like the sunlight. No wonder the plants loved her. 

"I do like plants, but fresh-cut flowers are out. I won't cut my babies." Ivy simpered, "We could only sell potted flowers and plants."

"That's more like a nursery." Oswald fussed. It sounded like more work than a simple flower shop. But if it would make Ivy happy, "Deal. We'll open a shop that only sells flowers that are potted. No large scale plants though. No trees."

"Imagine a little shop with flowers of every color. And, like, that earthy smell." Ivy envisioned wistfully, "You know plants make much better company than most people."

"Well, you will have to get used to dealing with people, Ivy. I can't have you turning away potential paying customers." Oswald laughed as Ivy pouted.

"I will only sell my babies to good people. If I don't like them, then I don't need their money. Our flowers will only go to loving, caring homes." Ivy insisted.

"Of course! Only the best for our flowers." Oswald agreed.

The two continued on like this, building up their fantasy shop in their minds. It sounded like a dream. A sweet dream that had no place in a city like Gotham, but it didn't stop them from dreaming it anyway. Ivy wanted the best soil to spoil their plants. Despite the extra cost, Oswald was willing to indulge her in this. After all, happy plants would make better products. Oswald also decided that they must sell every sort of lily. Lilies for his mother. His mother would have liked to see her son in such a business. It may not be the most ambitious undertaking of his life, but it was honest work, and she would have appreciated the beauty of such a shop. Oswald sighed. Maybe if he had been involved in such work before, his mother would still be with him. The melancholy thought threatened to sour the mood. Ivy didn't let him mope for long however, drawing him back into their shared dream with plans for selling vegetable seeds and quality pots as well. And the more they described it, the more Oswald desired it. A little peace and happiness. And Ivy to share it with. Maybe someday...

A few more months and their dream became a reality.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was Ivy's secret. Since their discussion, she had finally found the flower shop of their dreams. What did it matter to her if the place was already occupied? It was easy enough to convince the original owners of the shop to hand over the deed and keys and simply leave. Not that they'd had much say in the matter, compelled to obey her every command under the influence of her special mind-controlling perfume. 

With them out of the way, she set to work tidying up the shop and making some changes to make it more their own. She gave the walls a fresh coat of paint, swept the floors, and changed out the sign above the door. Ivy also removed the sad stands of cut flowers and replaced them with shelves for the potted plants they would sell instead. All of this she did on her own. Ivy wanted it to be a surprise. She could just imagine Oswald's grumpy scowl morphing into a delighted grin as he took in the cheery lavender walls, neat aisles of potted plants, and the handmade logo she painted herself in the shop's storefront window. It featured the silhouette of a lily with the words 'Pepper & Pot's' in looping letters beneath. She hoped Oswald wouldn't mind the abbreviation of his name, but she didn't think labeling the place as being owned by the former (disgraced) Mayor Cobblepot was the best way to advertise themselves. Besides, the shop name just sounded better this way. It had a nice ring to it.

After all the preparations were completed, Ivy could not contain her eagerness. Of course she decided to show off her hard work to Oswald immediately. She couldn't wait for him to see it! Oswald trudged along behind her, annoyed by the lack of any sort of explanation for their sudden outing. When they neared their destination, Ivy stopped Oswald to blindfold him. 

“There is no way I'm letting you cover my eyes with that. You'll walk me straight into a gutter.” Oswald huffed, swiping her hands away.

"Don't you trust me yet?" Ivy whined.

"No. The last time you helped me walk, you dropped me on the floor." Oswald complained.

"You were heavier than I expected." Ivy said with a shrug, "Besides, I'm not carrying you this time. Just leading you. C'mon, please?"

Oswald sighed. The sooner he agreed to this, the sooner he could be done with this foolishness. He reluctantly relented, closing his eyes. He felt the fabric covering over his eyes as Ivy chattered excitedly about how he would so not regret this. Oswald very much doubted that but didn't comment further. He felt her hands settle on his shoulders and guiding him forward. A few paces away, they turned a corner and came to a stop. Oswald could hear the creak of a door swinging open.

“Watch your step.” Ivy warned.

“I don't know how I'm supposed to watch anything with my eyes covered.” Came Oswald's sarcastic reply.

“Just trying to help.” Ivy muttered.

They resumed walking once more. Oswald took an exaggeratedly high step forward, heeding Ivy's warning, despite his earlier comment. Once inside, she drew him into the center of the space and removed the cloth from his face. As Oswald opened his eyes, his mouth fell open in astonishment. It was beautiful!

“Ivy, what is all this?” Oswald asked, peering at the nearest flowers with a gentle smile.

“It's our shop, silly.” Ivy giggled, “The one you and me were talking about.”

“Ours?” Oswald wondered aloud, breathless, “but how?”

"Do you like it?" Ivy inquired, shifting nervously.

For a moment, Oswald was at a loss for words. Ivy had taken his daydream and made it into reality. He truly was touched and still couldn't believe she would do all of this for _him_. That she cared enough to try to make him happy. She'd already done so much for him saving his life when she hardly knew him, and now this! It left him feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Somehow, even without his memory, Oswald knew that having someone care about him this way wasn't common for him. But Ivy had proven herself a true friend.

"I love it." Oswald finally whispered, patting Ivy's back and pulling her in for a hug, "Thank you."


	2. Edward: Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap (in case its needed): 
> 
> Chapter 1: Oswald gets amnesia after Edward shoots him at the dock. He wakes up in Ivy's care. She tells him who he is and they open a flower shop together.

The sound of the gunshot still rang in his ears and it was as though the world had frozen in that moment. Cold. Silent. Then the bloody wound bloomed across Oswald's belly. Red leaked through the man's fingers pressed tightly against it as though he could stop the blood from spilling. Oswald stared up at him, disbelief written across his face, hurt and betrayal in his eyes. But what did he expect? Oswald had betrayed him first! He had to pay! 

All of this was Oswald's fault, not Edward's. If only he hadn't been so selfish then things wouldn't have to end this way. But was it selfish? Of course it was, but Edward's own inner doubt kept nagging at him. Would he have done any different in Oswald's shoes? Of course he would. Friends didn't do what Oswald did. But they were not only friends, were they? 

Maybe Oswald was right. He felt something for him, something beyond friendship. Oswald had been there for him in ways no one else ever had. He really had _seen_ him, something Edward had longed for more than anything. To be seen, noticed, acknowledged. To feel like he had a place in this world as something more than a mistake or a nuisance. The way others treated him. But Oswald made him feel that way. Like he mattered. Like he was worth something. His happiest days were those spent at Oswald's side. 

Until he learned of Oswald's betrayal. How naive Edward had been. Oswald didn't see him. He was no better than anyone else. The man had tried to control and manipulate him. Just like everyone else in his life. But Edward was special, only like some sort of prized possession. No. Edward belonged to no one but himself. Oswald would learn that now. Too late.

Edward reached forward, fingers twisting in the fabric of Oswald's shirt. He hesitated for only a moment, looking his former friend in the eyes one last time. Something in him shattered. Then Edward pushed him away. Heard the splash as Oswald's body hit the water.

It wasn’t supposed to feel this way! Edward watched in horror as Oswald’s body sank into the murky water. The look on the sinking man's face reflected his own heartbreak. What had he done? What he had to. He watched his friend sink into the depths knowing that this was it. There was no turning back now. He turned and walked away, regret in every step, but he had to move forward. Edward would move on from this. Oswald was wrong. Edward didn't need him. He didn't. The words felt hollow lacking substance or conviction, but maybe someday they would become the truth. Edward didn't turn back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Edward did his best to forget that day. To forget his hurt and regret. To forget Oswald. Edward had once told Oswald ghosts weren't real, but here the man was haunting him. Following him everywhere, yapping incessantly, dripping on everything! It was driving Edward mad.

"Am I what's driving you mad? Or is it the guilt, Edward?" the apparition of Oswald sneered.

"I don't feel guilty. You got what you deserved." Edward lied.

"Really? Then why am I here I wonder?" Oswald continued, "Maybe you miss me."

It wasn't true. He told himself that he didn't miss him. Edward would never admit to that. To himself or Oswald's ghost. It didn't matter that the ghost was merely a manifestation of his own troubled mind. That because he was a product of his own imagination, he already knew everything Edward knew. But to say it aloud would make it real. As it was he could still deny it. This feeling couldn't last forever. He would remake himself. Find his own identity without Oswald and leave that bitter past, and the dead man, behind him.

If only he knew how. How did one become a proper criminal? A force to be reckoned with. Edward had seen Oswald's rise to power. The way he'd learned from the best. Became the Penguin. Edward had been hoping to make a name for himself the same way. To learn how from Oswald. He never imagined that would also mean becoming enemies with the man, the way Oswald had been enemies with his former mentors. But that was how things had ended, before he felt he really knew what he was supposed to become.

"I told you, Ed." Oswald tittered knowingly, "I saw the real you. I saw your potential. But now you will never know what you might have been. You need me, Ed."

"Shut up! I don't need you." Edward growled, "I can just replace you, Oswald. There are more brilliant minds than yours out there, and I'm going to find them!"

"Good luck with that." Oswald yawned nonchalantly, "You'll see soon enough that there is no one else that will see you for what you really are. That can accept the real you. And when you finally realize that, I'll be there to rub it in."

"You won't be there." Edward replied bitterly, "You're already dead."

"And whose fault is that?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Edward began searching for a new mentor. Someone worthy of his brilliance to guide him on his path to self discovery. He sought out the brightest minds in Gotham and gave each one a simple test. How hard could it be to answer a few riddles? Oswald had always been able to solve them (even though he hadn't usually been patient enough to indulge Ed). But if he could do it, surely one of these genius minds would be up to the task.

But each time, Edward was disappointed. Among the best and brightest of Gotham, no one ever came even close to comparing with Oswald. Not a one of them could solve his riddles. No one understood. 

Until he began his search for an enemy instead and found Lucius Fox. And for a moment, for the first time since Oswald's death, he believed he might move forward. That finding Foxy proved he didn't need Oswald. After all, he understood things the others hadn't. Edward sat in the back of Lucius' car, gun aimed forward at the man. He needed to know.

"Have you always been Foxy, Foxy?" Edward questioned. He was still confused. He needed help sorting through it all. Maybe Foxy would know the answers. He was the only one to figure him out before. To realize what he had done to Oswald.

"I'm not sure what you mean?" Lucius replied.

"All my life," Edward licked his lips, "I've felt like there was someone inside of me. Someone stronger and... and smarter. Someone people would fear. No one else saw that."

"Except Penguin?" The other man asked.

Edward knew he would understand. He hadn't even seen it himself until Foxy said it, but now it all made sense. Edward breathed, "Except Oswald."

"So why did you kill him?" Lucius inquired. It wasn't accusing or prying. Just a question.

_Why did he kill him?_

"Because Oswald killed the woman I loved." Edward explained. _He needed to pay. No, he needed..._

"And with Oswald gone, is that the role I'm meant to fill? To be your reflection?" Lucius continued.

This aggravated Edward. _How could he not understand?_ Oswald was not merely a reflection! Was he? Had Edward only ever saw himself in Oswald? When he looked at Oswald, he saw power and strength. Edward wanted that. He always thought it would be Oswald that helped him be the strongest version of himself. But he was gone.

"No. Because I know who I am." Edward insisted, "I know how to _be him_. And you helped that. So thank you."

"Ed." Lucius turned to face him and Edward looked up expectantly, "You killed six people."

"Mhm." A self satisfied smirk slid into place across his face.

"Seven, including Penguin." Lucius added, "You just announced to the city that you are a villain and a murderer."

"Mhm." Edward's smile widened.

"Ed, if there is any part of your mind that is not insane, listen to me."

Edward's smile dropped.

"You need help. Turn yourself in." Lucius implored sympathetically. 

"My actions seem... mad to you?" Edward swallowed.

Lucius nodded before replying gently, "to anyone."

_Face the truth._

Edward couldn't deny it any longer. Oswald had been right! No one would see him the way Oswald saw him. No one would understand. And Edward had killed him. The only one. There was something between him and Oswald that couldn't be replaced. And there was no turning back now. That's what all this was about. What it had always been about from the beginning. It all came back to Oswald.

Edward stammered, overwhelmed, "I-I just _killed_ the best friend that I've _ever_ had. My search for a teacher, or an enemy, that was just me trying to hold onto him for a little longer."

Like his fingers twisted in the fabric of the man's shirt before he pushed him off the dock. Foxy's words were that final splash. He was alone...

Unencumbered. Free. Stronger. He was better off unencumbered. So why did he feel so lost?

"But now I know who I am. Without _him_." His voice rumbled. Rage and determination. It was too late to turn back. Edward had chosen revenge. He could only move forward. He knew who he was now _without_ Oswald. He could be strong.

"So who are you now?"

"Oh. Come on, Foxy." Edward huffed, mockingly. "I'm the Riddler."

He smashed his gun into the side of the other man's head, knocking him out. It was exhilarating. Finally revealing his truest self. He didn't need to be understood. It had to be true. Didn't it? He laughed, long and loud. 

But there he was. Oswald. Sitting beside him in the back seat, dripping and watching. 

"I told you I'd be here. Do you finally get it, Ed?" Oswald taunted, "No one else will ever accept you the way I did."

"I don't need acceptance, Oswald." Edward retorted, "I'm above that now. I'm the Riddler. And I became him when I killed you."

And even though he wasn't real, Oswald looked enraged.

"Be the Riddler!" He spat, "Your legacy will be as a madman. They won't just fear you. They will _pity_ you, Ed."

It was like a slap in the face.

"Shut up!" Edward shouted back.

"You will lead yourself to ruin!" Oswald turned pleading, unrelenting, "Face the truth."

"What do you want me to say? That I regret it? Because I don't. You got what you deserved." Edward insisted desperately. 

"Then why am I still here?" Oswald demanded quietly. Beseeching eyes drilled into Edward with all the intensity of the last time he'd seen the living Oswald. The hallucination lifted his hand to press against Edward's cheek. A ghostly cold sensation against his skin.

"Because I..." Edward took a stuttering breath. He couldn't remain haunted. There was only one way to move forward. The final step. He had to face the truth.

"Because I miss you. And I did care for you, Oswald." Edward finally admitted, "I cared for you more than..."

Tears rolled down his cheeks. It was the first time he'd let himself feel it. _Really feel it_. The heavy emptiness that weighed upon him since he'd removed Oswald from his life. Forever. Irreversibly. Dead. Edward sobbed and the ghost was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Edward was finally ready to say goodbye. The hallucinations had ceased once he finally accepted the truth. He really had cared about Oswald, more than he realized, and he missed him. God, he _missed_ him!

It was strange. Over the last several weeks he hadn't once thought about Isabella. His every thought had been for Oswald. Hating Oswald. Missing Oswald. Wanting to prove himself to Oswald. Positive or negative, it had all been around Oswald. Edward wasn't sure what this meant. And now maybe he never would, but he was ready to move on.

He would say a proper goodbye at the docks. The last place they had been together. Before in anger, now in acceptance, if not quite forgiveness. Feeling a little sentimental, he decided to buy some flowers for the occasion. Lilies, like for Oswald's mother, or maybe some sort of purple bloom instead. Edward had always been partial to Oswald in purple. A color worn by royalty, it suited him.

Maybe it was wrong to go to the same place he had gotten the bouquet for Isabella, but Edward was a creature of habit and would rather not venture from his preferred shop. He had yet to make up his mind when he rounded the corner to find the previous flower shop now under new ownership. It was destiny, this new shop. Now he wouldn't have to decide, seeing as the choice had already been made for him.

He approached the storefront ready to enter and immediately froze. Through the glass, Edward was met with the most startling sight. He couldn't believe his eyes! Oswald Cobblepot. Alive and happy. Humming as he watered the shop's flowers.

 _Impossible!_ The hallucinations had been gone for days! And yet this wasn't what bothered Edward most. It wasn't so strange that he was seeing Oswald again once he thought he was finally rid of the man. That Edward was by now quite used to. But to see him looking this way. No dripping, no pallid complexion, no tattered clothing. Oswald looked utterly dry and healthy with hair neatly styled. He wasn't wearing a ruined version of the last suit Edward saw him in either. In fact, Oswald was dressed in a way Edward had rarely ever seen before. A casual knit sweater, khakis, and loafers. Edward hadn't seen the man this dressed down since the time he'd spent living in his apartment.

And wasn't it strange to see Oswald in this setting? Seeing the man happily working in a flower shop of all places? Edward had thought the hallucination of Oswald singing to him had been odd, but this took the cake! Edward would have never thought it possible for him to imagine his former friend in this setting. But imagine it he must have because Oswald was dead. Wasn't he?

Edward lingered outside a moment simply watching the man inside going about his business unaware. He saw a woman prance into view throwing her arms around Oswald. Not just anyone could get close to the Penguin like that. Edward expected the bubbly woman to be shoved away at any moment. She wasn't. Oswald was actually _smiling_ at her! There was an exchange of words he couldn't hear and the woman skipped out of view once more. 

Edward felt a rush of anger. Was he jealous of the red headed tramp? Of course not, but how dare Oswald move on and find happiness after stealing his away. If this even was Oswald. Which it wasn't! Oswald was dead! Edward had to be sure. He pushed the door open and entered the store.

"Oswald?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Got this done a little early. Sorry no fluff this time. Are you in suspense yet? Next chapter Ed and Oswald will finally meet again!


	3. Oswald: Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap (in case its needed):
> 
> Chapter 2: Edward comes to realize he regrets killing Oswald. Thinking the man is dead he goes to a flower shop to get flowers in his memory and is surprised to see Oswald alive.

A bell chimed signaling a customer's entrance to his shop. Oswald turned away from a pot of daisies to welcome them. He put on his most charming smile, hoping it would help him make a sell. The business thus far had been rather slower than his expectations, and he was beginning to worry about how he and Ivy were going to manage if things didn't pick up soon. He turned to see a tall gentleman all dressed in green step inside.

"Hello. Is there anything I can help you with?" Oswald greeted the man cheerily. 

The man's only reply was to gape at Oswald open mouthed like he had just sprouted another head. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the man's intense stare.

"Oswald?"

Did this man know him? Of course he would. Oswald had been the mayor formerly, so he shouldn't be surprised now that someone would recognize him. But somehow he felt there was more to it than that. Now that he was looking closer, the man did seem familiar, but the memory of him lay just outside of Oswald's grasp. Oswald gave the man a questioning look, hoping to be provided some clue to the man's identity and his relationship to him.

"I-is it really you?" The man mumbled barely loud enough to be heard, "Have to be certain."

The man stepped forward with purpose, making his way towards Oswald. Oswald stared up at him, wondering what in the world this was all about. The man seemed a few marbles short if anyone were to ask him. He appeared proven right when the man suddenly lunged towards him, bopping Oswald on the head, hard.

"Owwwww!" Oswald yelled, rubbing the spot on his forehead.

"Had to be sure." The odd man told him, as if that explained everything.

"I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"I'm the Riddler." The man rudely cut him off.

" _The Riddler_?" Oswald asked sarcastically.

Was this guy serious? What kind of name was the Riddler? This Riddler looked as though he were about to say more, but Oswald had had enough of him. 

"Well, you can't just go around hitting people!" Oswald complained angrily, "I think you should just le-"

"You're lucky that's all I did!" The Riddler hissed, interrupting yet again, "Now that I know, I'm-"

But Oswald was having none of that, speaking over the man to silence him.

"AS I WAS SAYING, I think it's time for you to leave. Get out of my shop." Oswald demanded, voice dropping, temper rising.

The Riddler loomed over him threateningly, but when Ivy reappeared, he seemed to think better of it. He turned on his heal and left without another word. Oswald's shoulders sagged with relief, not having noticed how tense he was until the man was gone. Whoever that was, he hoped he wouldn't be seeing him again... how odd, but for some reason the thought of that caused his heart to ache.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the day was rather quiet with only a few customers. This suited Oswald just fine. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the odd man dressed in green. _The Riddler_. The stange encounter replayed in his mind, continuing to nag at Oswald until closing time. He tried his best to ignore it. The man from before was clearly a nutcase. But the way he'd approached him... it really was like he knew Oswald. He was probably just some lunatic that knew him from the papers or television, but it felt like there had to be more to it than that. Oswald couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something very important, perhaps even a matter of life or death. Maybe Ivy would know something.

"Did you recognize the man in here earlier? The one all dressed in green?" Oswald questioned.

"That tall guy? He didn't seem very nice." Ivy answered without answering.

"But have you seen him before?" Oswald pressed, trying to get Ivy back on track. This was important. He was sure of it.

"Yeah. Saw plenty of him in the papers. He was always standing next to you during your time as mayor."

"And you didn't think to mention that before?" Oswald huffed in exasperation. 

"Oops. Guess I didn't think about it." Ivy shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry, Pengy."

"It's fine."

Oswald sighed. It wasn't as though he could expect her to think of everything. Ivy may appear to be a grown woman on the outside, but Oswald knew her mind was still that of a child and she had already taken on more than most her actual age.

It did worry him however. Learning that the strange man and Oswald had known each other before put his earlier encounter in a new light. He wasn't merely some random loon that knew of him as mayor. From the sound of it they had worked together. Perhaps they had even been close. It meant that Oswald had likely not seen the last of the Riddler and he had a feeling the man was dangerous. He had seen it in his eyes.

As Ivy locked up, Oswald mindlessly watered the flowers in the front window display, paying little attention as he went. Had he already watered these today? His mind was far away from properly tending the plants, still trying to remember anything he could about the man in green. If he could only remember more from his past, maybe the nagging feeling would go away. 

Thus distracted, Oswald failed to notice a slick spot that had accumulated on the floor from his haphazard watering. He took a step back, foot skidding across tile. Off balance and arms flailing, he dropped the watering can. It splashed the rest of its contents across the floor. Then Oswald fell, the impact sending a shooting pain through his legs. Soaking wet and miserable, he hissed in pain, clutching an injured leg.

"Oh! Pengy!" Ivy cried, rushing to his side.

"Don't touch me!" Oswald screeched when the girl tried to help him. He felt foolish. Weak. He wanted to chuck the nearest pot at the ground and hear it smash. But as the pain slowly subsided, he realized his error. In a more subdued tone he apologized, "Sorry, Ivy. I didn't mean it like that. Just give me a moment."

Ivy stayed beside him, patiently waiting. Finally, Oswald reached out a hand to her and Ivy assisted him with getting back up. He winced as his weight resettled back on his feet. Both legs hurt, but it was the weaker one he knew would be sore the next day. And all because of his carelessness. Oswald leaned heavily onto Ivy for support, careful of the still slick floor beneath them as he limped forward. His leg throbbed. Noticing his discomfort, Ivy made sure to take it slow as they made their way to the nearest chair. She settled Oswald into it and he sighed with relief. He leaned back, closing his eyes to wait out the lingering pain, but he could feel Ivy's eyes still on him.

"What is it?"

"Does this hurt?" Ivy asked poking at a particularly tender spot.

"Ow! Yes, Ivy, that hurts." Oswald replied tersely.

"Hmm."

She ceased prodding his leg instantly, but otherwise seemed unapologetic. Rather, she looked deep in thought as though considering something as she continued to examine his injury. If she was going to continue nursing him like this, then Ivy would need to work on her bedside manner.

"Wait here. I think I know something that can help with this."

The girl turned and rushed from the room. When she returned, Ivy brought with her a towel, which she draped over Oswald, and one of her strange plant concoctions. Oswald sincerely hoped he was not meant to ingest this one. It smelled horrible. He felt instantly reassured when Ivy rolled up his pant leg and began gently applying the medicine to the spot she had poked earlier. She spread the planty paste carefully around all the sore spots on his leg. It felt tingling and cool and Oswald was surprised how quickly it began to soothe his aches. Ivy smiled up at him as he hummed in contentment. He didn't even realize he was doing it.

"Better?" 

"Much better." Oswald responded warmly.

"Good. So what happened? Why were you like, all spacey like that?"

"I need to remember everything from my past." Oswald asserted as though that explained his earlier carelessness.

Ivy tilted her head, looking perplexed, but waited for him to explain further. 

More to himself rather than Ivy, Oswald continued, "This was supposed to be the start of a new life for myself, something my mother would have been proud of. I thought maybe if I couldn't remember it, I could just leave my past behind and start over. But I think that was unwise."

"Unwise?" 

"Yes. From what you've told me about it, it may be too dangerous to ignore my past. The man from earlier was a reminder of that." Oswald explained.

"Oh." Ivy nodded still utterly confused, "So what do we do next?"

"What would you think about making a trip to my previous home? Maybe a familiar setting will help me remember something."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They made the trip that weekend, closing up shop for the entire day. Oswald felt he might not be up to dealing with customers afterward depending on what they might find. Their taxi rolled to a stop in the drive and the driver stepped out to open their doors for them. Oswald stepped out of the vehicle, eyes glued to the front facade of this grand home. His home. Though he had no memory of living here.

Oswald could hear Ivy giving the taxi driver instructions to open the trunk of the vehicle and get inside it. The man complied with her request and Ivy shut him inside. Her perfume really did work wonders. Their return ride secured (without having to pay a single cent), Ivy made her way to Oswald's side, staring up at the Van Dahl residence. They simply stood there for a moment taking it in before the girl began to squirm with impatience.

"Remember anything yet?"

Oswald shook his head. Maybe if they went inside? He walked to the front entrance, taking in every detail and although he did not remember it, there was a sense of familiarity about the place. When he came to the door, it was locked. Of course, he no longer had the key. Break-in it would have to be then. He was able to pick the lock with only minor difficultly, the door creaking quietly as it swung open.

He passed through a few rooms, feeling the odd sense of familiarity, but without triggering any recollections. Until he opened a door and was struck with overwhelming recognition. The room was a study by the looks of it. Oswald's breath caught in his throat at a sudden and overpowering memory. 

_Stay with me, father. Help is on the way._

_Foaming at the mouth. Held in his arms. Glassy eyes piercing his with their vacant stare. Gone._

_Why did everyone he loved leave him?_

He rushed from the room unable to bare the sight of it a second longer. Outside it, Oswald sagged against a wall, allowing himself a moment. His father's death had been so sudden. And so like his mother's. Both died in his arms. He swallowed down a lump in his throat, eyes blurry with tears. 

Once he somewhat recovered from the shock, Oswald continued his exploration of the mansion. After all, he came to remember, no matter how unpleasant it might be. This was what he was here for and it was working.

In another room, he found some old newspapers with articles and photos from his time as mayor making the front page. Curious, he picked up the first one, reading the front page. Accompanying the article was a photo of himself and at his side was none other than the man who had called himself the Riddler. So they really had worked together. And judging by the hand he could see resting on his past self's shoulder and the way the man smiled down at him, it seemed as though... could they have been friends?

From the paper, Oswald learned that the man's name was actually Edward Nygma. Is that some sort of joke as well. E. Nygma. Enygma? Really? The man seemed to be more of one with each passing moment. Oswald readily became absorbed in the mystery of him, allowing himself to be distracted by it rather than dwell on sad memories of his parents.

Oswald set the paper back down and wandered through to another room. A large painting caught his eye and he trudged over to it with a scowl. It was a self portrait of himself, but now a bright green question mark had been spray painted over it. A desecration, as if to mock his memory. Oswald could feel his own red hot anger, likely to boil over at any moment. It seemed this day was to be from one extreme emotion to another.

"Nice painting." Ivy's remark from beside him reigned him in, welcomingly distracting from his fury, "The um, artist really captured your confusion and the green brings out your eyes."

Oswald snorted in amusement at that. Ivy's childish naivete had been growing on him and often served to bring him out of his morose moods. He looked at the portrait again, no longer troubled by the offensive punctuation marring its surface. She was right though. The green did bring out his eyes.

"Fancy yourself an art critic, do you?" He told the girl with a light chuckle, "Ivy, this painting was _clearly_ vandalized. The question mark isn't part of the original." 

"Oh." Ivy said before dismissing it with a flippant _hm_ , and trotting away to explore on her own.

Alone, Oswald turned his attention back to the ruined artwork. As his eyes continued to sweep over it, he didn't miss seeing the man in the background. The mysterious Edward Nygma once again. The painting seemed yet another clue to the nature of their relationship. Oswald could not know for certain, but he could guess who was responsible for marking the painting. It seemed true that a picture was worth a thousand words. This single painting had already told quite the tale. A story of closeness turned to rage. Oswald wondered what could possibly have happened to cause it. But now he knew. The Riddler was indeed dangerous.

Oswald turned away, meandering through the rest of the ground floor before making his way upstairs. He proceeds room by room, inspecting each before moving on to the next. But one bedroom was unlike the other's. It was the last one down the hall before he came to the master's suite. It looked lived in. Recently. Oswald entered the room, feeling oddly as though he were trespassing. By the contents of the space, he could see that it wasn't his space. Someone else had lived here with him. A quick glance into the wardrobe left no doubt about the identity of his housemate. There was too much green to not recognize it immediately. He and Edward Nygma had indeed been very close. What happened?

Oswald left Edward's room, shutting the door behind him. One room left and he still had no memory of the time he and Edward must have spent together. It continued to allude him and something in his gut, some part of him, seemed to be warning him to let it stay that way.


	4. Edward: Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap (in case its needed):
> 
> Chapter 3: Oswald meets Edward again. Calling himself Riddler, Edward is rude and is told to leave. Oswald becomes interested in regaining his memories as a result of the encounter and goes to the Van Dahl mansion.

With a solid thump to the smaller man's head, Edward confirmed what he was already beginning to suspect. It wasn't a hallucination. Oswald was real, alive, and standing before him with a look of irritation that didn't at all match what he expected. After all, Edward had tried to kill the man and would have thought to see some sort of an emotional outburst from the Penguin. But Oswald wore only a mildly annoyed scowl as he rubbed at the sore spot on his head.

"Had to be sure." Edward found himself explaining.

"I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"I'm the Riddler." Edward blurted. _If Oswald's alive, am I still?_

" _The Riddler_?" Oswald's tone turned mocking.

It grated on Edward's nerves. How dare Oswald scorn the new identity he had worked to make for himself. The man had no idea what he had been through or how hard it had been.

Without noticing Edward's anger, Oswald continued on, "Well, you can't just go around hitting people! I think you should just le-"

"You're lucky that's all I did! Now that I know, I'm-" Edward started to threaten. 

But Oswald cut him off, "AS I WAS SAYING, I think it's time for you to leave. Get out of my shop."

Edward stepped forward, glaring down. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The last time he had seen Oswald, he'd been begging for his life. Weakened and powerless. It shouldn't be any different now. If anything, Oswald should fear him even more. Because now there should be no doubt left that Edward was capable of it. That he would go through with killing him. But the other man just stared haughtily back up at him, clearly challenging, no hint of fear or weakness in his eyes. Edward couldn't stand that somehow Oswald had come back stronger. 

_"You need me, Edward Nygma. Just as I need you. You cannot have one without the other."_

Oswald's past words rang in his mind, but the man seemed to be doing just fine. If that was the case, then Edward didn't need him either. He was ready to shout it at his former friend. It hurt and Edward wanted to hurt him back. But when the redhead reappeared, Edward backed down. He stormed out of the shop, the door shutting with a sharp snap behind him. 

He proceeded down the street at a brisk pace, propelled by furious energy. Edward had to get away. Far away, as though the distance apart could allow him to truly leave Oswald behind. If he could only get far enough maybe he wouldn't have to acknowledge all the doubts tangling his thoughts. With Oswald back from the dead, could he really be the Riddler? He had only become the Riddler when he killed the Penguin. Edward wanted to be the Riddler. He didn't want to go back to being weakened by something as pointless as Lo... no! 

_Worthless to one, but priceless to two._

Edward shook his head, denying it with all his strength. Not that word. He didn't need Oswald. He didn't want Oswald. And there was definitely no love for him either.

But knowing that Oswald was never really dead brought all his newfound strength tumbling down. Edward's mind raced trying to make sense of it all. He could feel his fragile identity unraveling, confusion setting in. He fought against it. This changed nothing! He was still the Riddler. But what to do about Oswald?

He had missed him so desperately. But seeing him again had left Edward agitated to say the least. Even after everything he felt during Oswald's assumed death and all the regret he felt afterward, Edward had still been ready to kill Oswald all over again for his contemptuous attitude. Somehow the man knew exactly which buttons to press, how best to pierce through Edward's defenses and expose his insecurities. _So to act like that! To move on so quickly!_ Like he mattered so little to Oswald, like what he had done mattered so little. It was unacceptable! Did Oswald really believe he could be dismissed this easily? 

Edward vowed to himself he would return the next day and finish what he had started. But first, Oswald would come to know the new man Edward became without him. He _would_ acknowledge the Riddler. Edward would demand Oswald's respect and he would have it. Only then, he would finally end the Penguin once and for all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As he had promised himself, Edward returned to the flower shop the following day. And this time, he came prepared, gun in hand. But he couldn't go inside. Edward stood, frozen to his spot on the pavement standing across the street, unable to enter.

He was supposed to boldly go in, make his threats, and watch Oswald grovel once more. He'd imagined all possibilities of how Oswald might react differently with a gun pointed in his face. And Edward would be filled with confidence and resolve. He would demand he call him by his new name. Oswald would say it with respect and victory would feel so sweet. Then Edward would pull the trigger, forever cementing his change into the Riddler. But he couldn't go inside.

Instead, Edward continued to watch from his hidden spot across the street. He could see Oswald rearranging the display in the front window assisted by that ditsy redheaded woman. As they worked, Edward could see them smiling and singing. What they sang, he couldn't know, but the sight before him brought forth a memory. The memory of a song shared between himself and Oswald. 

_Edward sat at the piano, fingers dancing merrily across the keys in hopes that Oswald might join him. It had been some time since they sang together, but the tinkling sound succeeded in luring the Penguin into the parlor. It never failed to. Oswald hobbled closer to him, swaying in time to the music. Edward looked up as he continued to play, noting the way the other man's tired eyes lit up when they met his._

_Oswald had seemed so tired and withdrawn lately. Edward knew the cause of his friend's fatigue to be more than just his mayoral duties or his criminal activities. Something else plagued his friend and kept him up at night. But the music seemed to be relaxing Oswald, just as Edward had planned._

_He began singing the words and it was only a moment before Oswald joined in. The sound of the other's voice stirred some undefined feeling within him. Whatever it was, it made him feel warm and brought a contented grin to his face. Oswald smiled back, chuckling as their song came to an end._

Edward turned away. Away from the scene in the flower shop and away from the scene in his memory. He would not enter the shop that day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Edward returned again the next day, perched in the same spot as before, spying Oswald once more through the store front glass. Today, Oswald seemed to be dealing with a particularly aggravating customer. He could see Oswald barely reigning in his temper, plastic grin in place.

He had always been so good at that, though Edward could see through it immediately. Edward also knew it was only a matter of time before Oswald's patience wore thin. He was never so good at keeping his temper in check.

From the looks of it, the customer was displeased with the flower pot clutched in one hand, animatedly waving the other as he berated Oswald. Oswald's smile finally dropped, his face going red with fury. But before things could escalate further, the ditsy redhead appeared. She spritzed something in the customer's face, told him something, and then...

Edward couldn't believe what he was seeing! _The customer was doing the macarena?_ As the man continued to dance, the woman and Oswald erupted into a fit of giggles. Then the woman said something else, and the man dropped to all fours, crawling around and grooming himself like a cat. This caused Oswald to howl with laughter so loudly that Edward could hear it from his place across the street.

Watching Oswald's amusement caused by that woman was too much. It filled him with an emotion he would rather not identify. A feeling he hadn't had since seeing Kristen Kringle with that simpleton, Dougherty. But green had always been his color. He felt it now, seeing Oswald's smile. It belonged to _him!_ A place at Oswald's side. That was his too. But not anymore. Edward had thrown it all away at the dock and now Oswald had given all that was his to another. Edward burned.

He wanted nothing more than to waltz in and steal it all back. But after seeing the customer's behavior, Edward knew it would be too risky. He couldn't rush in without a plan. So for a second time, Edward turned and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It became his habit evereyday to return and watch Oswald through the window. And everyday he would battle his feelings before inevitably turning away to retreat. Until the day when Oswald wasn't there.

Edward crossed the street dumbfounded. He peaked through the glass just to be sure. The shop was closed for the day, no Oswald or ditsy redhead in sight. Without him there Edward wasn't sure what to do with himself. Just like before, Oswald's absence left him feeling at a loss. He sat on the curb in front of the shop, deep in thought. It shouldn't be this way though, should it? He shouldn't feel as though he needed Oswald to be there. Everyday he had been returning, intending to carry out his plan to be rid of the man, but everyday he had left without fullfilling it.

Why was he hesitating? Edward couldn't understand why he was unable to kill Oswald. He had done it once and moved on. Sure, when he thought he had killed Oswald he had missed him, but he overcame that and became the Riddler, didn't he?

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. None of that really mattered now did it? Oswald was alive. And Edward had missed him. It began to rain. A gentle mist at first that grew to a steady drenching, fat droplets coming down. Umbrellas went up. But Edward didn't have one.

_They were at the ribbon cutting ceremony for Gotham's new zoo. It was good publicity, not that Edward thought Oswald minded. He seemed to like animals better than children at least._

_Edward stood at Oswald's side as a camera flashed, tapping his foot impatiently. He hoped it would be over soon. The clouds hung theateningly overhead. Not that it meant anything; the clouds always hung threateningly over Gotham, but Edward had a feeling showers were in the foreseeable future. Another flash, but this time it came from the sky, shortly followed by the rumble of thunder._

_It began to rain. Umbrellas went up. But Edward didn't have one. He scolded himself internally for not being better prepared. As Oswald's chief-of-staff, his right hand, he should have been prepared. Now his and Oswald's fine clothes (they were dressed rather smartly for the occassion) would be ruined. Edward felt so incompetent._

_But then his brooding was interrupted by the appearance of an umbrella hovering over him. Where? He looked beside him, seeing Oswald's arm extended slightly up to shield them both. He stepped closer to Oswald to better take cover. His hand brushed against the other man's side. It felt awkward, so Edward lifted his arm and draped it around Oswald's shoulder, holding him close. It felt natural. Familiar touches and shared closeness were nothing unusual between them. Besides, it was easier to share an umbrella this way. Nothing more than that. Still, Edward noted the subtle pink tint across Oswald's cheeks and felt warmed by the sight._

Edward stood, preparing to leave and find shelter. But then his departure was interrupted by the appearance of an umbrella hovering over him. He looked beside him. It was always like this. Oswald was always there for him. Edward subconsciously took a step closer to better take cover. His hand brushed the other's side, feeling so familiar. Without thinking, Edward turned fully towards him and wrapped his arms around him, holding Oswald close. He needed Oswald. Nothing more than that. Still, Edward wondered if Oswald still needed him back and felt chilled by the doubt.


	5. Oswald: Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap (in case its needed): 
> 
> Chapter 4: Edward is a stalker and spies on Oswald while trying to come to terms with his feelings for him. He eventually decides he needs Oswald and hugs him in front of the flower shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been a while since the last update so in case anyone doesn't remember what's happening and doesn't feel like going back and reading everything, I included a recap of the last chapter at the beginning of each chapter (including all the previous chapters). I hope this helps anybody with a memory as bad as mine lol.

Familiar. If he didn't think about it, it felt so familiar. Lanky arms wrapped around him, drawing him closer. Chin hooked over his shoulder, digging in just slightly but not uncomfortable. A gentle squeeze and hands running across his back that felt so warm. All of it felt like something he used to do with this man he used to know. But only if he didn't think about it. The moment he tried to remember, the feeling vanished, leaving him in the awkward embrace of a stranger. The Riddler. A dangerous man he knew very little about. Oswald went rigid under his touch.

Edward Nygma didn't seem to notice Oswald's discomfort, continuing to cling to him. It was unnerving after the Riddler's threatening behavior earlier in the week. But they had also been friends, hadn't they? Maybe all of it was some sort of misunderstanding. After all, Edward seemed happy to see him now. Oswald cleared his throat and pushed away lightly. The arms around him reluctantly released him. He shivered slightly at the sudden loss of warmth.

"Oh! It's you!" Ivy exclaimed behind them, "The rude guy from the other day." 

Oswald groaned at Ivy's lack of tact and felt compelled to explain on her behalf, "I, um, might of have called you that before. Bad first impression."

"First impression?"

"I suppose it wasn't, was it? We used to work together? Seems we might have been pretty close." Oswald sighed, "You'll have to forgive me, but I don't remember anything since my accident."

Edward seemed taken aback by this. Oswald could see the man working it out in his mind as Edward silently studied his face. Did he think he was lying?

"You don't remember... You _really_ don't remember?" Edward's voice was a choked whisper. He cleared his throat before saying a little louder, "Not any of it? The, um, accident?"

Oswald shook his head. Edward made no reply to this other than to avert his gaze. He now seemed to be studying his shoes, unable to look Oswald in the eye. A spell of silence fell over them. The only sound the continuous patter of the rain. All the unspoken words and questions hung like heavy chains and neither of them seemed able to break free.

"Could we, like, go inside or something?" Ivy grumbled, "Or do you two plan on standing in the rain all day?"

The spell was broken. Oswald handed the umbrella to Edward to hold as he fished in his pocket for the key. He unlocked the door, stepping aside for Ivy to enter, with the intention of having a few last words with his former friend. Edward swept passed him and entered the shop with Ivy close behind. No invitation needed apparently. It was so like Ed. Oswald found he didn't really mind, a small, amused smile reaching his lips. The man's social awkwardness had always been somewhat endearing. _Always?_

Oswald dismissed the thought and followed them inside. Ivy was already leading Edward around the shop and excitedly showing off her newest blooms. Ivy chattered excitedly to Edward in what seemed to Oswald a language all their own. He didn't know much about the particulars of plants. That was definitely Ivy's expertise and it seemed she had finally found someone who understood all of her plant gibberish. Feeling more at ease, Oswald decided to go make tea for all of them.

In the tiny kitchen at the back of the shop, he set some water to boil. While he waited, Oswald thought back to what he'd found in his room at the Van Dahl mansion. He reached into his pocket for the item, deep in thought as his fingers traced over a papery edge...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_After leaving Edward's room, Oswald made his way to the master suite at the end of the hall. He turned the knob and walked in. Even though the memory of it was missing from his mind, he felt as though he'd done it before hundreds of times. Large and luxurious, the room was definitely his. Oswald sighed, walked to the bed, and sat on the edge to rest._

_All the tension in his body finally relaxed. For the first time in a long while, he finally felt in his element. He felt himself. He ran his hand across the rich fabric of the bedding. It felt so right. Much more so than the scratchy, worn bedding he'd been using in Ivy's care. Sure it was nothing like what he'd grown up with or had for most of his life, but he had always known he was meant for greatness. He had always known that one day he would live like a king. And here in this room was the proof that he had._

_Oswald swung his legs up and leaned back against the pillows feeling utterly content. His eyes closed. There was still much he didn't remember, but coming here had been a good idea. His body seemed to remember much that his mind didn't know. Surely then it was only a matter of time until the memories followed._

_As if in answer to these thoughts, his hand reached out to the bedside table beside him. It felt like something he always used to do. He blindly grabbed hold of the knob with no more difficulty than one might have blindly buttoning one's pants. Some things are so much habit that they don't require sight. So it was with this. His hand reached in and plucked something out without need to search for it. He didn't know how, but his hand seemed to know exactly what it was he wished to bring out, even as his mind had no idea what it was. Oswald opened his eyes._

Penguins. Eat. Fish.

_Delicately held betwixt thumb and forefinger was a dainty origami penguin. Oswald smiled. Somehow he knew this was something very important to him. Having it back felt like some missing piece of him had finally come home._

_Oswald got up, back onto his feet and tucked the little paper penguin safely away in his pocket. He hobbled to the door ready to leave now. Yes, coming here had definitely been a good idea. Ivy had told him before who he was, but now he knew it for himself. He was the Penguin._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ow!"

Oswald jerked his hand out of his pocket with a hiss. Looking down, he could see blood welling up from the tiny paper cut. Somehow it felt like a warning.

_Do you believe in fate?_

If the little origami bird could speak, Oswald wondered what it might tell him. He wondered what secrets it held, what memories. But it was nothing more than prettily folded scrap paper and these thoughts were nothing more than fanciful nonsense. Paper couldn't speak and this was merely a paper cut. Nothing more.

Oswald sucked his sore finger and turned to check the water on the stove. Seeing it boiling, he poured the water into the elegant teapot Ivy found at the Van Dahl mansion. He placed it, along with matching teacups, onto a tray and carried it back to share with Ivy and Edward.

As he entered the room, he could hear Edward's laughter. Whatever Ivy was telling him, he certainly seemed amused. As Oswald drew near and heard what Ivy was saying, he felt his face burning.

"You mean to tell me, you had Oswald convinced that Penguin was his stage name as a performer?" Edward guffawed.

"I did!" Ivy gasped, wiping laugh tears from her eyes, "He couldn't remember anything at first. He, like, believed everything I told him! I even convinced him to _sing_ for me."

Edward laughed. Neither of them noticed the increasingly red Oswald now standing behind them.

Ivy sighed, "He eventually figured it out though. He's not as fun now that he knows. But there was this other time..." 

"IVY!" Oswald shouted, interrupting their merriment.

"Oops. Was that supposed to be a secret? Sorry Pengy."

"Not yet you're not." Oswald smirked, "Wait till I tell Edward what you thought adultery was. She thought it meant 'acting adult-like.' Can you believe that?"

Eyes wide, Ivy whined, "Pengy!"

Edward chortled, "A grown woman didn't know the meaning of adultery? Wow, you're naive."

Now it was Oswald's and Ivy's turn to laugh at Edward's ignorance. Edward's perplexed expression only made it funnier. He really had no clue.

"After talking with her for more than five minutes, you still believe Ivy is an adult?"

"She looks like one." Edward defended himself.

"Well, she's not." 

Oswald went on to tell all the events that led up to Ivy's current appearance. Ivy had told him all about it as she nursed him back to health.

"We've both had accidents." Oswald concluded, "Mine robbed me of my memory and hers robbed her of her youth. Ivy is actually no older than... 11?"

"I'm 12!" Ivy stamped her foot playfully, crossing her arms as though annoyed. She wasn't though. The smile gave her away.

Oswald set down his tea tray on the sales counter and passed out the beverages. They sipped their tea and continued their lighthearted conversation. To Oswald it was all so comfortable and strange to find himself falling so easily back into friendship with Edward. He couldn't remember it, but Edward's presence felt so familiar. His earlier reservations and suspicions were quickly evaporating like the steam from the warm tea. And when Edward smiled at him, his heart felt just as warmed.


	6. Edward: Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick recap (in case it's needed):
> 
> Chapter 5: In front of the flower shop, Oswald reacts to Edward's hug with some awkwardness. To get out of the rain, Oswald opens the door to his shop and Edward enters uninvited. While Ivy shows Edward around, Oswald goes to make tea and remembers finding his origami penguin at the Van Dahl mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly the same events from chapter 5, but from Edward's POV. Enjoy some Ed and Ivy interaction.

"You don't remember... You _really_ don't remember?"

Was that his voice? His questioning plea? Edward felt so far away. He was spinning. His head was spinning. It was spinning. Dizzying thoughts and emotions, things too complicated to articulate, whirled through his unravelling mind. Edward couldn't make sense of any of it.

"Not any of it? The, um, accident?" He pressed, trying to regain control. An anchor. Oswald must remember _something_. Edward needed him to.

Oswald shook his head and sent Edward spiraling once more. When he pulled the trigger at the docks, he'd been trying to rid himself of Oswald. He never thought he might rid Oswald of himself instead. And now the man was looking apologetically at him with no memory of what he had done or what Edward had done. _Whose fault?_ Edward did this. He couldn't meet Oswald's eyes. Maybe he deserved to be forgotten.

Time ticked by with the drip drop of rain as Edward stared down at his shoes not really seeing them. As if from a distance, he heard a voice, then the jingle of keys, and something was thrust towards him. Edward clumsily took hold of the umbrella handed to him without really registering what it was. Suddenly, the door opened and he stepped inside still clutching the umbrella. An automatic response. A reasonable response. Something that his mind could comprehend. When doors opened the sensible thing to do was walk through them. Especially when it was raining outside.

The sensible thing to do. It anchored him and finally quieted his mind. Edward just needed to do what was sensible in this situation. The first thing was to figure out what Oswald _did_ know. Even without his memory, Oswald somehow knew about their friendship. What else did he know? Edward turned back around to Oswald, a dozen questions ready to spill out, only to find himself seized by the ditzy redhead. Before he could protest, she was dragging him away and prattling on about her plants.

As she led him around, Edward was grudgingly impressed by how knowledgeable the redhead seemed, naming off each plant and their special traits like some sort of plant encyclopedia. He hated to admit it, but maybe the broad had some brains after all. Still, there was other much more important information he was after. He needed to know about Oswald. 

Edward turned to see if he could locate him, but he'd already left the room. Edward huffed. Well, he would just have to question the woman instead. She spent so much time with him and would therefore have to know something. Besides, with Oswald gone it was the perfect chance to find out what he remembered without drawing suspicion from the man. Somehow, Edward knew getting information from this ditzy redhead would be like taking candy from a baby.

"So, ditzy redhead, how do you know Oswald?" Edward blurted out.

"Rude! Y'know, I'm not ditzy and the name's Ivy Pepper." The woman retorted. 

"Unimportant. Besides, I didn't appreciate what you called me before either. It's not 'rude guy.' I'm the Riddler."

"The Riddler. Like seriously?" Ivy smirked.

" _Yeah_ , seriously." Edward sniffed, irritably.

"Okay, the Riddler." Ivy said, shrugging nonchalantly, "I'm the one who found Pengy and took care of him. He was in pretty bad shape before. He'd lost a lot of blood, and like, wasn't even breathing when I found him. I totally thought he was going to die."

Edward swallowed hard at that. He'd come that close in succeeding with Oswald's murder. It was unthinkable now.

"I guess I should thank you then." Edward rasped, "Thank you, Ms. Pepper."

"Wow that sounds weird. Just call me Ivy. And you're welcome."

"Do you know how it happened?" Edward questioned stiffly. _Was asking this too obvious?_

Ivy didn't seem to notice, answering, "Nope. Just found him like that. And Pengy didn't remember a thing about himself. Had to tell him his name and everything."

"Wait, you knew Oswald? How?"

"I didn't really _know_ him," Ivy explained, "but, like, who wouldn't recognize the Penguin? He was the mayor, duh."

"Oh. Right."

As they talked, Edward tried not to feel jealous of the relationship that had bloomed between Oswald and Ivy during his absence. Listening to the way she talked about 'Pengy' (ugh that pet name was driving him mad), Edward could tell how much she cared for him. It wasn't because he wanted Oswald for himself. No, Edward wasn't selfish like that. Was he? Of course not. It just... It wasn't fair that Oswald should get to meet someone new and move on so easily! Not after the way he had stolen that chance from him. And yet, Edward had only himself to blame for it this time. It was his own actions that brought this upon them both. And yet he couldn't stop fantasizing about bashing Ivy over the head with a flower pot. He wouldn't, but the thought was tempting. Finally he couldn't hold back any longer. He had to know. 

"Are you and Oswald...?"

"Hmm?" Ivy tilted her head.

"Y'know, dating?" Edward floundered.

"Ew! Gross!" Ivy exclaimed, before mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "And he's gotta be, like, triple my age or something."

But Edward couldn't have heard that last part right. No matter. He was impossibly relieved to know the nature of their relationship didn't extend beyond friendship. Why did he care so much? Well, it was only fair wasn't it? Just because he knew now how much he needed Oswald didn't mean... Well, he didn't know what it meant. 

Regardless, the information eased his mind and Edward began to relax and actually enjoy his conversation with Ivy. As they waited for Oswald, the woman told him story after story of their time together. Though the Oswald in her stories had lost most of his memories, Edward was relieved to hear that the man's personality remained intact. Ivy's descriptions of Oswald's behavior and words were all terribly familiar and very like Oswald. Before long, Edward and Ivy were laughing together like old friends. They didn't even hear Oswald enter the room with a tray of tea. Ivy continued her storytelling without notice. 

"He eventually figured it out though. He's not as fun now that he knows. But there was this other time..."

"IVY!" Came Oswald's shrill voice.

"Oops. Was that supposed to be a secret? Sorry Pengy." Ivy giggled, looking anything but sorry in Edward's opinion.

"Not yet you're not. Wait till I tell Edward what you thought adultery was. She thought it meant 'acting adult-like.' Can you believe that?"

"Pengy!" The woman whined.

"A grown woman didn't know the meaning of adultery? Wow, you're naive." Edward taunted, feeling smug.

Oswald and Ivy burst out laughing. _What was so funny?_

"After talking with her for more than five minutes, you still believe Ivy is an adult?" Oswald chuckled, wiping laugh tears from his eyes.

"She looks like one." Edward countered defensively.

"Well, she's not." 

Edward listened in rapt fascination as Oswald described the events that had lead to Ivy's current appearance. It eplained a lot of the behaviors he had observed from the... the girl? It was still hard to believe this grownup exterior housed the mind of a child. But this _was_ Gotham. Stranger things had happened. 

"We've both had accidents." Oswald told him, "Mine robbed me of my memory and hers robbed her of her youth. Ivy is actually no older than... 11?"

"I'm 12!" Ivy exclaimed stamping her foot.

Edward stayed late into the night enjoying the comfortable environment created by shared laughter, warm tea, and the aroma of flowers. Ivy eventually retired to bed leaving him and Oswald alone. Edward noted the amused smirk on her face as she stood to leave and caught her wink at him before she departed. He wasn't sure what that was about but dismissed it as just one of the odd things children did sometimes. 

The only mar on his time spent with Oswald was the occasional questions Oswald would ask about their lives from before. Questions he couldn't answer without risking giving away his secret (for he intended to keep his involvement with Oswald's 'accident' a secret). How could he possibly tell him now? Oswald's smile and laughter came so much more easily than his own without the burden of memory. There was no inner struggle there, no lingering resentment, no festering guilt. Telling him would ruin everything all over again. Edward knew, of course, that it wouldn't remain a secret forever. Eventually he would have to tell him. But not today. Today he would let it...

Edward sighed. If only he could forget it too.

"Something wrong?" Oswald asked placing his hand on Edward's knee. 

It was a gesture of concern like so many he had recieved before. Just like things used to be before it all fell apart. But this Oswald didn't remember therefore _this_ Oswald hadn't betrayed him. _This_ Oswald... he killed the one who betrayed him, but he hadn't killed this Oswald. Like wiping the slate clean. Edward was reborn as the Riddler and now Oswald was reborn too. Maybe this was their second chance. Edward smiled.

"No. On the contrary." Edward told Oswald, meeting his eyes, "I think everything is finally right. It's good to have you back, Oswald."


End file.
